Survivors: The Birth of the Raiders
by Pepper527
Summary: Two weeks after the fall of Pyrrhus, ISA soldiers Rico Velasquez and "Jammer" are stranded in the deathly Helghast desert with a small, motley group of fellow survivors...but not all of them are ISA. Throughout constant conflicts and petty squabbles, the small group must put aside their petty differences to work to the common goal of survival.


This is one story I've always wanted to work on. One that shows the experiences of the ISA Raider Squad during the six months between the ISA's failed evacuation from Pyrrhus and the Helghast's plan to invade Earth. If you've played _Killzone 3_, then it should be no surprise that the main characters will be Rico and Jammer, but there will also be a bunch of new characters that I've made up that will also make up the cast. As always, please feel free to critique me and give me your opinions.

**Note: I don't own Killzone. It is the property of Sony Entertainment and Guerilla Games.**

"**Jammer"  
E-3 (Pilot 1****st**** Class, ISA Air & Space Force)  
Age: 23  
Hulst Desert, Helghan  
December 2, 2359  
1000 hours**

I sat in the cockpit of my Intruder, making my usual rounds of searching for stranded ISA troops. I casually flew across the arid Helghan desert, constantly checking my radar for even the tiniest sign of life on this Hellhole. I'd been flying across miles and miles of vacuous wasteland for nearly an hour, just praying that I'd find just a single ISA grunt that'd survived that colossal shitfest at Pyrrhus. But alas, the radar came up as empty as the area it scanned. There was nothing. No soldiers. No distress calls. Not even a dried up corpse that we could loot for supplies. There was just…nothing.

But, hey, I guess that's just typical of this Godforsaken planet. The minute you set foot here, you're on your own. If this rock's fanatic, war-crazed inhabitants don't kill you, its abrasive environment, blazing heat, and hostile wildlife will. Everyone who'd been involved in the catastrophe at Pyrrhus had either died, been captured, or somehow managed to fight his way off this planet (oh God, how I envied them). As far as I knew, the only "ISA scum" left on this shithole were me and my Sergeant.

Sergeant Rico Velasquez, who was riding on top, spoke to me through the radio.  
"Hey, Jammer! You find anything yet?"

"Negative, unless you're asking me about this gorgeous Helghan landscape that we're exploring. Again. We've been flying over this same Goddamn desert three days, Sarge. Not even the Higs can survive in this terrain for this long without supplies."

"Let's give it another hour. I know there's other lost Vektans like us out there."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Rico, look. We've burned out half our fuel on this wild goose chase. I only have enough for—two hours, tops. What the Hell are we gonna do when we run out?"

"Then we'll walk."

"OUT THERE!?" I shouted into the mic. "ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY!? WE WOULDN'T LAST TWO DAYS!"

"I don't care what we have to do!" He screamed back. "I'm not just gonna sit here on my ass while more people die because out there! Now shut the fuck up and keep searching!"

"Goddamn it, Rico! Why can't you—"

**Ping! Ping! Ping!**

_What the_?

To my astonishment, the radar actually managed to find one lucky soul on this desert!

"Hey, Sarge!"

"What now?"

_Asshole_.

"The radar's actually picked up something!"

"Ha! And what did I tell you?" He responded. "Which direction?"

"About…320 degrees north-northwest."

"Just hold on." I took a few seconds to see if this ping hid a distress signal behind it.

"_Repeat…mayday…ISA…wound…need Medic—wned cruiser…we have supp…please help…"_

"The signal's pretty faint, but I can definitely hear it. It sounded like they have wounded, and they mentioned something about a cruiser."

"That's probably where they're holed up. How far is it from us?"

"Approximately 20 kilometers northwest from us."

"Tell em' we got their distress signal and we're comin' for em' right now."

"Roger." I flicked the yellow switch on the right side of the radio and said, "This is Intruder Raider 1. I got your transmission. Report your location and we'll get to you. Over."

"_Roger…Raider 1… …downed Hig cruis… creek…over."_

I spoke to the Sarge once again. "Uhh, I couldn't hear him too well, but it looks like they're holed up in a downed Helghast cruiser by the river."

"A _Helghast _cruiser?" He shouted in surprise. "Shit. It might be a trap then, but at least they might have supplies we can loot from 'em. Be on guard, Jammer."

"Copy!" I turned the dropship away from its normal route and headed it towards the source of the mystery distress signal. Personally, I didn't think the Higs would be so stupid as to hide out here in this desert in the most obvious place imaginable: an abandoned ship. Then again, I've seen the Helghast do crazier things before. At Pyrrhus, I once saw a lone Hig who was psychotic enough to charge into a squad of ISA with a grenade! So, I made sure I took no chances and prepare myself for whatever's gonna happen.

We flew across the dry, orange desert for about twenty minutes as my radar's pinging grew more and more rapid. We inched closer and closer to the target until we finally ended up at an enormous wreck of a Helghast cruiser. Unlike our ISA cruisers, which were essentially mobile space stations that hovered motionlessly in the sky like long, floating icicles, Helghast cruisers were more like what you'd see in a science-fiction movie. This ship in particular was a pathetic shell of its former self: its entire aft section had been blown off (which meant that its engines and command bridge were gone), there were large, gaping blast holes all around its hull, and of course, without a power supply, all of its weapons and utilities would be completely useless. Still, Velasquez and I had to sleep in a filthy old shack for two weeks. Compared to that, a downed cruiser is a freaking five-star hotel.

I landed the Intruder along the port side of the cruiser, where the biggest hole was. I picked up my captured StA 11 submachine gun and opened the canopy. Rico jumped off the top of the ship, his enormous M224 LMG in hand. He looked at his left towards me.

"You remember the countersign, Jammer?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Alright, then. Be prepared for whatever's ahead."

We pointed our guns at the unseen inhabitants of the derelict cruiser as I called out the ISA challenge.

"Eagle!"

We paused for reply. Nothing.

"Whoever's in there, Eagle! If you do not reply we will open fire on you and take your supplies!"

I knew that there were only two of us, and there could be fifty of them for all we knew, but I hoped that my bluff would make them believe that there was a sizable platoon outside waiting to take them out.

We paused once again, ready to carry out our threat.

"Talon! Don't shoot! Talon!"

_Thank God_.

Rico and I thankfully lowered our guns and were relieved to see three men in ISA gear appear from the cruiser. They appeared in a straight line, with one guy in the middle while the other ones were at his sides. The center ISA was a tall, lean, short-haired blond man holding an M82 assault rifle, while the others were shorter, younger, and each holding the same weapon.

"Good to see we weren't the only ones who'd survived that shitstorm on Pyrrhus. I'm Sergeant Daniel McClellan, Tactician class, 5th Battalion. This here on my left is Private Harrison… and on the right is Hernandez. We and about thirty others took refuge in that cruiser behind us after we missed the evac on Pyrrhus."

Lowering my StA11, I spoke up. "That's funny. Me and my Sergeant also came here from Pyrrhus. There was a platoon of men with us as well, but they…"

"They didn't make it, did they?" He sighed. "God protect them. Well, the important thing is that you and your sarge made it through. Come inside and we can get you two out of this fuckin' Helghast desert, and maybe get you to help some of our wounded Come to think of it, neither of you would happen to me Medics, are you?"

Velasquez lowered his head and sighed, "I'm sorry. We're not. But we do have a few medkits stowed onboard the Intruder."

"I see", said Lindberg. "Shit. Well I suppose that's gonna have to do for the time being."

The tall sergeant gestured us towards the derelict cruiser and shouted "Come on!" But not before freezing and saying "Oh! One last thing!" He turned towards me and said "Hey, ma'am?"

"Yeah."

"You might wanna move that Intruder of yours a few kilos north past the creek. The Higs don't really do much patrolling here, but I wanna make sure they never catch any of our vehicles and get suspicious. Don't worry 'bout getting back here. I'll send a couple guys in a jeep to pick you up."

"Sure thing." I replied. "I could do with a few minutes to myself without having to deal with my pet gorilla over here."

"Yeah, that's very friggin' funny," replied Rico, who wasn't fond of my sense of humor. "Just make sure you get your ass back here soon, Jammer."

I winked at Rico and gave him a salute, "Don't worry about it, Sarge."

I climbed into the Intruder's cockpit and flied it north towards where Lindberg said the other ISA vehicles would be. The creek was nothing to look at: it was just a single line of shallow, murky water with an old, rickety bridge made of rusted sheet metal across it. Past the creek lied a small row of ISA Intruders, jeeps, and even some stolen Helghast vehicles neatly parked beneath a cliff, which was hiding it underneath its shadow. I gently landed my dropship and left my sweltering cockpit and rested underneath the cooling shade of the cliff. The landscape was, frankly, pretty damn boring. There was little to look at, except miles and miles of Helghast desert, with only the sun, the creek and the giant, derelict cruiser to stand out.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of doing jack shit, I spied the aforementioned ISA jeep soaring towards me from the horizon. Surprisingly, it was able to drive over the old, rusted bridge without even slipping over. There was one ISA grunt driving the vehicle and another manning the machine gun on the back.

I waved at the driver and shouted, "Took you assholes long enough! I was beginning to think you were gonna leave a poor girl like me to fry in this desert!"

"Hey, we're gentlemen! It would be wrong for us to leave a fine woman like you to die in this hellhole!"

Before going with them, I remembered McClellan's request for some medical equipment and picked three of them from the cockpit. Then, grabbing my StA-11, I eagerly jumped into the passenger seat and rode with the two men back to the cruiser. The soldiers were Privates Harrison and Hernandez, the two men Rico and I met alongside McClellan. Harrison was the driver; he was around his twenties, carried a StA-14 Rifle, and wore the trademark orange scarf and motorcycle sunglasses that most Saboteurs wore. Hernandez, the gunner, was somewhat older and most likely an Assault trooper, since he carried a big VC-9 Rocket Launcher on his back.

"Hey." Harrison spoke up, "What was your name again?"

"You can call me 'Jammer'".

"Jammer?"

"_Just_ Jammer."

He gave me a questioning look, but shrugged his shoulders in acceptance.

Okay, 'Jammer' what brings you and your friend to this lovely Helghan countryside?"

"It's a long story. Me and Rico met during the ISA's retreat from Phyrrus, when the Higs launched their counterattack. My squad, the Raiders, was being overrun by the Higs at Bilgarsk Boulevard. Rico came to back us up when no one else would. Thanks to him, we were able to push the Higs back, and started making our way to the evac. But…"

My tone became more somber. "…when one of our cruisers got shot down and started falling toward us, it was way too late. More than half of us were killed by either falling debris or explosions. The rest of us: bullet wounds, infections, dismemberments, hostile wildlife...you get the picture. Rico and I were the only ones who'd survived. How we did is far beyond me."

"Oh, my God." Harrison replied. "I'm real sorry, Jammer. I can't believe the two of you went through all that shit on Pyrrhus, and lost your entire squad! How the Hell did you guys last these past few weeks on your own?"

"We found an Intruder at the edge of town. She wasn't exactly in her prettiest shape, but we'd rather been in the air than on our feet, so we salvaged her and flew the Hell outta Pyrrhus. Since then, we've been searching for other ISA survivors for almost two weeks."

"Did'ya ever find any?"

I sighed deeply. "Nope. Not one. We couldn't find a single ISA that wasn't dead already. You guys were the first live troopers we've seen since we've left Pyrrhus. Come to think of it, how the Hell did you guys survive this long, anyway? And in busted old cruiser like that?"

"Well, luckily, some of us weren't even _at _Pyrrhus when we found that ship. Our battalion was stationed aboard the cruiser _Zephyr_ until it the Higs blew her out of the sky. We got away, but ended up being completely separated from Capt. Narville's convoy, and our radio was fried, which meant we couldn't call for help. On top of that, there was that big fuckin' nuke that went off over Pyrrhus, so we figured that everyone in Pyrrhus would've been good as dead, anyway and decided to lay low and survive on our own in that ghost ship. There's about thirty of our battalion living there, plus two or three more who found us the way you guys did."

"I see." I replied. "But listen, you probably shouldn't tell my sergeant that you guys left the convoy to hide out here. He's a decent guy, but he's short-tempered, boisterous, and a bit of an opinionated asshole. He might not understand your reasons for hiding out here like I do, so just keep that shit to yourselves."

"Sure thing." He replied. After a few more minutes of driving we finally returned to the massive, rusted tomb that was the cruiser. The hole that served as the entryway was large enough to let through a small jeep, so Harrison parked us inside. It felt refreshing to spend some time away from the hot Helghast desert…but that also meant I'd have to deal with my hot-headed Sergeant again. Speaking of which, I saw Rico talking with McClellan as I came in.

Rico saw me walk in and said, "Ah, Jammer you're back already. Good."

"Aw, did you miss me Sarge?" I teased. "How sweet! I was beginning to think you'd enjoy not having to listen to me nagging the Hell out of you."

"Whatever." He snorted. "Just remember who bothered to save your ass at Phyrrus while _you_ called for help. That is, unless you want me to put a bullet in that fuckin' jaw of yours and close it forever."

"I'd like to see you try, bitch!"

"All right, knock it off! Both of you!" shouted McClellan. "Jammer, have you brought the medkits?"

"Three of them, sir. They're in the front passenger seat of the jeep."

"Excellent. I'll get them to our wounded right away. At the meantime, you and Velasquez make yourselves at home. Meet some of the other soldiers; get some food, some rest, and some time away from this Goddamn desert. But don't get too comfortable! Tomorrow, you guys'll be working just like the rest of us!"

"Yes sir!" We both shouted.

Rico turned to me and said "Jammer, I'll go with McClellan and get those meds to our wounded. Meantime, you get acquainted with some of the other soldiers here."

"You got it."

Rico and McClellan walked into the dark remnants of the ship's hallway, while I turned around and headed towards the mass of Vektan bodies behind me.

_This should be interesting_.


End file.
